


You Said You Would Be Okay

by voidfruit



Series: Play Your Part (The Tekkit War) [3]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidfruit/pseuds/voidfruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War causes losses. Heavy losses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Said You Would Be Okay

The grass crunched underneath his feet.

Kressh. Kcressh. Krcessh.

His grip around the hilt of his sword was tight, and his breath, strained. The grass was green, a sort of dried, crisp matting of material. There was a pronounced breeze in the air, a promise of events yet to come.

He knew what had happened. He knew the events that took place as he marched up the hill, his knucles turning white and his heart sinking. It was obvious, and he hadn’t expected it, but…

He couldn’t understand what he was seeing. It… wasn’t there. It couldn’t be. It could never be.

It was.

Sjin lay there, on the grass. Calmed. Peaceful.

Sips knew what it was. How Sjin was at this moment. But he didn’t see any of it. Sips was desperately trying to not see it for what it was, he didn’t see all the blood. He didn’t see the deathly expression on Sjin’s face. He didn’t see him still, not moving.

He saw Sjin as he remembered him. Excitable. So easily amused. Widened eyes and pumping fists and great beautiful grins lighting up Sips’ whole world.

There was no pained expression on Sjin’s face. Sips chose to believe that there was not.

However, belief can only reach so far before reality sinks in, because, yes indeed, Sjin’s expression was pained; an expression beyond this world of consciousness, an entire different plane of being. A stare into where he was now.

It wasn’t optional, or a choice or a decision; Sips ran. He ran with immediate tears in his eyes and a ball of fear in his heart. He knelt by Sjin’s side, sobbing. With a gentle hand, he turned Sjin’s head to face him, unclosed eyes that stared into oblivion, those neon blue, electric, even, eyes that Sips had grown so accustomed to. The eyes he gazed into, the ones that, when Sjin caught him looking would giggle and scoff, “What’re you looking at?”

With that stupid devilish grin of his. That mischievous, devilish grin that happened to be Sjin’s signature. His crazy, insane smile and stupid girlish giggle that Sips longed to hear. And when he got him to smile, it was like, like everything Sips’ hopes and dreams were made of. Pure hope.  
Every time Sjin smiled, it was as if someone had broken out a set of watercolors and was painting all of Sips’ grey, distorted sketches warm, bright colors. The landscape turned beautiful and bright, with life and love.

Sips would never see that smile again.

He shut Sjin’s eyelids with a motion of his hand, pressing his face into Sjin’s chainmail armor – god, he still smelled like himself, despite the blood – and was able to cry. He cried, yes, Sips cried.

“Please wake up,” he muttered with desperate eyes and wild thoughts. “Please.”

The cause of death was a million different causes – falling from great heights, technological malfunction, a bluff that was called too soon – and of course, the katar through the chest. There were too many causes, too many odds against him.

“Goddammit, if you don’t wake up soon, you son of a bitch…”

Angry tears streamed down Sips’ cheeks as he muttered, regretting each word an instant later.

“You weren’t done here,” Sips reasoned, “We weren’t done here.”

Sjin wasn’t a strong man, or a well-built one, quite slim and perhaps underweight, but somehow he managed to have this sort of energy around him, this… this look and feel of knowing something. Everything. An aura of insanity, someone who would stand and wait for his bluff to be called, because it never would be. A sly grin that spread slowly across his face and a soft voice that disarmed his enemies.

He picked flowers before a fight, designed beautiful structures and created his art. He was calm when going into battle. A bit cocky, perhaps. Smug and confident, when really he was scared to death on the inside.

Whether Sips took that page out of Sjin’s book, or he took it out of his, Sips couldn’t tell. They both acted so horribly, as no one could come close to them, they were untouchable. They laughed together, and lived, and loved, and shared together. Sips liked ‘together’.

They were together and that’s what had mattered. Now they weren’t.

The blood was a sticky, horrid mess, crimson staining his white clothes and the grass beneath them. Sjin’s lifeless body still warm. His lips were purple and his skin paler than usual. The blood smeared over Sips as he grieved, not caring about the gore.

He held Sjin’s hand tightly, pressing his nose into his hair. The only part of him that wasn’t a horrible mess that this point, just disheveled. It still had product in it. The slight curls in his otherwise straight hair, and the highlights of auburn in the mahogany style.

That ridiculous face Sjin made when fixing his hair in the mornings that Sips always teased him playfully for. “How do I look?” Sjin’d ask, with the promise of a smirk on his lips. Sips would say, “As always, fantastic,” and smile back at the man. His stupid hair and his stupid beard and his stupid face…

Sips knew he would never see him again. Never as he was. Never as they were.

This beautiful color in his life, the beam of laughs and snickering and funny whispers and romantic whispers and immature whispers and soft kisses on the jawline. The bliss of a restful sleep blended with a motivation to run a marathon was what Sips felt when he was with Sjin.

They were the perfect duo, together, united.

Sips had never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

To embrace him again, to kiss him again. To sigh in peace as he left. No. Sips didn’t get any of that, what he got was a cold rip away, an excruciating tearing of a bandage, except with this, nothing was healed.

It was cold. Sips felt the life draining from Sjin, from his world. He felt as if he was going blind.  
All the lands turned grey, the sun white and the grounds beneath them black.

Now, Sips felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

“You said you would be okay.”


End file.
